Not Afraid
by iLoVeRynMar
Summary: "I want to touch him. I want him to touch me. I want him to stop being so angry and afraid and help him remember about us." Takes place after Peeta asks to talk to Katniss in Mockingjay. Lemon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Alright so we all know like 90% of stuff on here is post-Mockingjay which I love to death, because honestly that's such an interesting time to explore and well Canon is so perfect it's daunting to even attempt writing in that world, BUT I wanted to try something new. For this little tale I focused on a time I found interesting and something I think could have realistically happened. I guess you could say this is kind of based off that impulse Katniss has in the sewers during the final mission in the Capitol to kiss Peeta when she sees him slipping away.**

_**I'm a little nervous and anxious to see how this is received so please review! THANKS!**_

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_All those months of taking it for granted that Peeta thought I was wonderful are over. Finally, he can see me for who I really am. Violent. Distrustful. Manipulative. Deadly. _

_And I hate him for it._

It feels almost like every other night as of late. I can't stop tossing and turning. I stare up at the stone ceiling of the room I share with Johanna, letting my mind wander to the dark places it likes to go to. I seem to exist in a state of constant, restless anxiety.

Tonight will be different though. I have a plan.

Since that encounter with Peeta last week I've been waging a war with myself. Part of me knows I should just go back to the earlier plan I had. The plan to simply let the tortured boy that the Capitol corrupted go, and follow through with my mission to kill Snow. I would avenge the deaths Snow caused and spare Peeta from any further pain I could inflict on him.

Another part of me can't help but clinging on to the possibility, the slightest glimmer of hope, that Peeta maybe isn't lost from me forever. He has clearly made some improvement. He was able to focus enough to decorate Finnick and Annie's wedding cake. He wasn't so enraged and out of control that he had to be sedated or physically restrained when we spoke. He actually even seemed a little like himself, other than his clear anger and mistrust towards me.

I am selfish enough to entertain the idea that helping Peeta get back to normal would, if not absolve, at least make up for, my past list of transgressions against him.

The plan evolved over several sleepless nights this past week.

The encounter with Peeta left me reeling. I didn't know how to handle the idea that Peeta can now so clearly see me for the horrible person that I am. I hated that everything that had happened made me realize I had taken him loving me for granted.

I would lie in bed, pushing off sleep in fear of nightmares and punishing myself with tortured thoughts. I thought of the Games, the deaths I have caused or witnessed, and how my only purpose now is to incite more death for the slim possibility that the Capitol will fall and this can all be over.

It started to become too much. It was exhausting to dwell on the trauma and tragedy of the past year and a half.

But then something happened.

My mind wandered to Peeta. When I thought of the pure, innocent boy who was tortured at the hands of the Capitol because of me I could literally no longer bare it. Almost like a defense mechanism my mind started to wander in the complete opposite direction. I started thinking instead about those few, fleeting moments when I could honestly say I felt happy, pleasure even, in recent memory. It was always the same. Those kisses in the cave, feeling his warm body next to mine during those nights on the train, sometimes even the feel of his hardness pressing against me when we woke in the morning. And then that final kiss we shared on the beach, when that new, different kind of hunger overcame me.

With these thoughts in mind I would bite softly down on my lower lip, carefully ensure Johanna was passed out from too many morphling doses, and let my hand travel down my body.

It was the first time I'd ever experimented with touching myself. Naturally I always wrote it off as a waste of time or simply not for me. I never even considered pleasuring myself. It was never a priority when my very survival, and the survival of the people I love, was in constant jeopardy. Even now, it seems like such an inappropriate and strange time to start experimenting.

The pain was too much though and I was so desperate for any kind of release. Anything that would make me feel good rather than the constant mental anguish I was experiencing almost every night.

In a way this is how the plan came about. When I touched myself I thought of Peeta. I pushed aside any feelings of guilt just for a moment and remembered how he had always been so loving and gentle with me. I would think about the unexpected heat behind some of his kisses.

I found that bundle of nerves and used two fingers to rub it in slow circles, increasing the pressure and pace as the tension built. I had to suppress any moans for fear of waking up Johanna, but I let my mind go and my body relax. I would imagine, and sometimes even hope, that it was his fingers touching me instead of my own. I thought of what it would be like to feel his naked body pressed up against my own.

I would work myself up until I was sweating and wet between my legs. When my body finally spasmed uncontrollably and I came back to earth I would try to cling to those few moments of reprieve that it had granted me from the harshness of reality.

Lying there in bed, my body still recovering, I could simply not accept the idea of letting Peeta go from my life forever. I knew I owed it to him to help him find his way back, just like what he would be doing for me if the roles were reversed.

I put together a plan of action after I realized what needed to be done. The idea, oddly enough, was sort of based off Prim's own idea of helping Peeta, how she had suggested giving him doses of morphling when he saw images of me to combat the effects of the tracker jacker poison. I thought the basis of the idea, associating something good in his mind when he thought of me, could possibly work in real life too.

I thought that maybe if he felt something other than anger or fear when he looked at me, maybe if he felt desire or even pleasure, he could start to get back to normal.

It was a long shot, and it was quite selfish, but I had made my decision and I wasn't going back on it.

When I shared the basic premise of my plan with Johanna she agreed to help out if I continued giving her my doses of morphling, didn't implicate her if the plan went wrong, and of course, shared the details afterwards if it did go right.

Now I'm lying in my bed again where it all started, waiting for the plan to be set into motion. There is just enough time for me to start to get worked up with nerves and anxiety, imagining all the ways this can possibly go wrong. Before I can do anything though it is midnight and I quietly slip out of the room, hoping Johanna has already taken care of her end of the deal.

I slowly slip outside my room and follow the maze of halls and corridors that lead to the elevator which takes me to Peeta's floor. I stop around the corner from his room, making sure that Johanna has taken care of the guards that are usually stationed outside.

I approach the door making sure the coast really is clear. I take a deep breath, hovering my hand over the doorknob as I try and push all my doubts and second thoughts away.

I turn the knob, finding it open, and I really am in the clear now.

Johanna did her job to perfection.

The moment I enter a small glowing lamp in the corner of the room immediately turns on. He stirs and turns to face me and I realize how lucky I am that he doesn't immediately lunge across the room to strangle me.

He isn't restrained and clearly looks shocked, confused, and not exactly pleased to see me.

"What are you doing here?" He asks harshly and I stay near the door in case I have to make a quick escape. His tone makes me nervous to continue with the plan, makes me question if this was a good idea.

"I'm...I'm sorry," I manage to stutter out, still backed up against the door as he sits up more fully in bed. "I wanted to say sorry for how our last conversation went."

Peeta laughs. It's not cold and ruthless like some of his previous reactions to me as of late, but almost surprised and indifferent, like he doesn't understand the point of me apologizing, much less waking him up in the middle of the night to do it.

"Okay..." he trails off, waiting for me to continue. "And?"

"And I wanted to see you," I feel my voice waver, all my well made plans of the past few days seem completely insane and impossible now faced with the reality of actually talking to Peeta face to face.

"Okay, you've seen me," He retorts, but swings his legs off the side of the bed and sits up more fully. I know he's more curious about why I'm here than he's letting on and the fact he hasn't attacked me yet gives me the courage to go forward with the plan.

"I was hoping..." I begin, moving across the room towards him with great caution, "that I could talk to you somewhere alone." He looks around the empty room and I clarify. "Without fear of being watched or overheard.

He studies me intensely for a moment like he's trying to decide whether to trust a lying mutt. He doesn't say anything though and I can tell he's tempted by simple curiosity. He finally puts his head in his hands and sighs tiredly. "And you're not scared I'm going to hurt you?"

"No," I respond immediately and we both know I'm lying and that I should be.

He stands up from his bed, wearing simple drawstring hospital sleeping pants and a grey t-shirt. He shrugs. "Okay, let's talk."

I nod and turn to leave his room. He follows me outside and we take the elevator back to my floor and then head down the halls until we quietly slip into my room undisturbed. My mind is reeling that everything went according to plan, that I was able to pull it off with a little help from Johanna. I try to push away the fears of being caught or something going wrong or him suddenly attacking me.

I close the door quietly behind me as he enters the small room and try to lock it as discreetly as possible.

"So what do you want to talk about?" Peeta immediately questions as I approach him. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, clearly trying to keep his distant. A pain of regret goes through me when I realize how hard this must be for him, to be trying to stay under control, to be fighting off impulses to kill me right here on the spot.

"I just..." I falter over my words. I've never been good at communicating what I'm feeling, but I seem to be especially tongue tied in this moment. I don't know how to express everything I want to. "I just...I'm sorry for what they did to you," I blurt out suddenly on the verge of tears. That isn't exactly what wanted to say but it was clearly on my mind.

This isn't going how I planned at all.

I try to compose myself and wipe away any sign of tears before he notices.

"Well, thanks but that doesn't do me much good," Peeta responds and it isn't particularly malicious. He says it in a way that just shows me how broken he really is, how tired he is of everything.

"I know, I'm sorry," I sympathize.

"I just wish I knew what was real and what isn't!" he bursts out after a moment, clearly aggravated. "I feel like Snow still has me prisoner, like they still own me."

_Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to show the Captiol they don't own me._

The words Peeta spoke to me on that rooftop before our first games float back into my consciousness. I almost double over in pain at the notion of what they've done to him, how they have corrupted him in the worst possible way. I can't help it, I move forward and reach out to him without thinking.

"Peeta..." I whisper reaching out to touch his arm.

"Don't!" He immediately yells, pulling away from me and tensing up. I can see he is practically shaking in anger. He breathes heavily, clearly trying to control the rage bubbling up inside of him. "Don't touch me!" He shouts taking a small cup from Johanna's nightstand and throwing it across the room. It hits the wall and shatters to pieces. I'm immediately terrified someone is going to come and investigate the noise, but oddly not afraid for my own safety.

"Okay, I'm sorry," I tell him, encouraged to see his breathing start to return to normal.

"Why did you bring me here, Katniss?" Peeta asks and I'm caught off guard by the question. I'm not ready to admit that to him yet. I'm barely able to admit it to myself.

"I want to help you," I respond truthfully.

"No you don't," Peeta responds and the tone of his voice is unnerving. "If you wanted to help me you would tell me what the hell happened between us for the past year and a half. You would be upfront with me about everything. You would be helping me get my memory back."

His words are hurtful and yet true, so I lash out defensively. "I'm sorry, but I can't! It's too hard, Peeta!"

Before I even have a chance to consider what's going on Peeta moves across the room and grabs me by the shoulders. He pushes me until my back hits the wall and his forearm is pressed up against my chest, keeping me in place.

"And you don't think this is hard for me?" He questions angrily. His body is as close to my own as he can get without touching. His face is just inches away from mine. I can feel the tension in his muscles, the anger coursing through his veins as he stares me down.

"You don't think it's hard for me not to be able to separate lies from reality? You don't think it's hard to feel like I have no control over what I think or how I feel?" He practically spits the words out at me, laced with distaste and fury. I stare into those blue eyes I have always been able to get lost in, that have always been filled with such warmth and kindness and love. His pupils have dilated so much I can barely see any hint of the blue now and he looks like an entirely different person. Oddly, I take note of those blonde eyelashes I have always been so memorized by, how they are still as long and curly as I remember them.

Another feeling courses through me with his body so close to mine though, and it's not fear. I know I should be scared, terrified that he can wrap those strong hands around my throat and kill me in a matter of moments, but I'm not. I don't know why, but I don't really believe that he'll hurt me, like I can almost feel that enough of his old self has come back that he would stop before going that far. It's naive and foolish, but I am not afraid.

Instead, the feel of his body so close to mine makes me remember my plan, my whole reason for bringing him here tonight.

I want to touch him. I want him to touch me. I want him to stop being so angry and afraid and help him remember about us.

His forearm presses into my chest harder, pinning me against the wall. I can't help raising a hand protectively to try and hold him off, but he doesn't do anything else. "Do you know what it's like when every muscle in my body is demanding that I attack you right now? Every impulse, every thought I have is telling me to hurt you."

Now I am trembling, but I stand strong and keep my eyes locked with his. I don't want to give up yet. "Then why aren't you?" I manage to whisper out.

His arm relaxes a little and the pressure eases off my chest. "Because there is something else inside me that I can't ignore. Something that is telling me that hurting you is the last thing in the world I want to do, that I care about you a lot."

He studies me for a moment and then drops his arm. He turns and walks away, sitting on the edge of my bed where he puts his head in his hands. I study him for a long moment, noticing how he looks so defeated, like he has simply resigned to live this tortured existence now. It's this look of pain and misery on his face that makes me determined to follow through with my plan, that makes me so desperately want to help him get better.

Slowly I walk over to him, careful to take a seat next to him, but not too close to make him feel uncomfortable. "I care about you too Peeta, that's why I want to help you get better."

He raises his head to meet my eyes and I swallow thickly, deciding it's now or never.

"Will you let me try something?" I question timidly.

He doesn't respond, only turns to face me more fully and waits for me to continue.

Slowly, I move closer to him, making sure to watch his reaction and not do anything to upset him. When I'm inches away from his face and he realizes what I'm about to do he freezes, but he doesn't pull away. Our lips meet and it's just the softest connection at first, barely whispering against each others flesh.

The kiss evolves into something soft and sweet, reminiscent of previous ones we've shared. I can feel Peeta relaxing, opening his mouth a little more. I'm confident this is what he needed when I feel his hand reach up and cup my face.

"Peeta..." I murmur when we break away to catch our breath. I fight off my impulses to progress things any further and let him set the pace.

He pulls my lips back to his and the kiss starts to become even more heated. His tongue softly strokes mine. We continue to taste each other. It feels so good to touch him like this after so long, after everything that has happened. That hunger from the beach is slowly igniting in my bones.

He reaches out and rests a hand on my hip and just the feel of his hand against my body makes me tremble with desire. To have his hands on me in an intimate way, not in an act of aggression or anger, stirs up that need for pleasure I have been feeling over the past week, that need that led me to touch myself. I'm encouraged that he is responding to my lips and to my touch, and actually reciprocating rather than running away or lashing out. I know my plan is on the right track.

I pull away and stand up off the edge of the bed. He looks at me questioningly and I grab his hand and pull him up to stand beside me.

I take a breath to summon all the courage I have because this is a line we're about to cross that I have never even contemplated crossing before in my life. Even with telling myself it's just part of a plan to help Peeta recover, there's no denying this is a big step that even if he hadn't been hijacked would have been a huge moment for us.

I look into his eyes and notice the ocean blue color has returned. I can't quite read what he's thinking, but he's quiet and studying me and my heart responds with a pang that he's waiting for me to make the next move. I think how far he's come from the deranged boy screaming I was a mutt so many weeks ago.

It's in this moment I know that he won't hurt me, that my little plan was actually a good idea, that this is something we both need right now. I want to be intimate with him and feel his warm flesh and cry tears of joy that he's alive and with me instead of tortured beyond recognition or still in Snow's control like I feared for so long.

I reach out and grasp the hem of his District 13 issued, grey t-shirt. I toy with it for a moment before pulling it up and over his head. He lets me and I don't meet his eyes. After a moment I reach out for the drawstring of the sheer sleeping pants he is wearing. I slowly pull the string that undoes that small bow that had been tied to keep the pants around his hips. Almost instantly they fall to the floor in a heap, revealing he isn't wearing anything underneath and he stands before me now completely nude.

I can't help it when my eyes immediately find his hardness and I take in every detail about him in fascination. I have seen glimpses of the male body before when the dying or injured found their way to our kitchen table to be treated by my mother, but I have never been able to appreciate it up close like this. I'm overwhelmed by how badly I want to touch him and surprised that I'm not nervous or intimidated. He his hard and stiff and pointing straight up, as I appreciate what makes him a man. My eyes travel over the rest of his body, not as strong and healthy as he once was, but slowly recovering. I see the scars on his chest and arms and I shutter to think what they did to leave those marks on him.

My mind wanders back to the first games, when I found him by the river and helped cleaned him up, how I refused to look at the sight of his bare body. Now I can barely tear my eyes away from his naked form. He is so beautiful, even after everything he's been through, he is still perfect in my eyes. Nothing could ever really damage a soul as good and as pure as Peeta's I decide.

Finally, he speaks and his voice is just above a whisper. "What are you doing?"

I look up and see the curiosity in his eyes. He is simply going along with whatever I'm doing, putting up no complaints. It is a far cry from the anger and confusion he has been so inclined to as of late. He seems so much like his old self; sweet, timid, and gentle.

I reach out a hand to curl around his neck and before I pull his lips to meet my own I tell him, "I'm helping you remember."

Our tongues explore each other's mouth and I can feel the passion building now. The hesitance and apprehension from before has all but melted away. We can't hide our feelings anymore. He places his hands on my hips and pulls me flush against his naked body. I feel his hardness pressing against my lower belly and the wetness between my legs grow.

I pull away and lead him over to the edge of the bed where I gently push him down so he is lying flat on his back. I look down at him on the bed, naked and hard and waiting for me to join him. I have no regrets about what I've done tonight or what we are about to do.

I pull my t-shirt over my head and toss it aside, revealing my bare breasts to him. I pull the tie from my hair, releasing my braid and letting my hair fall in waves down my back. I see him watching me and I am trembling in anticipation. I reach down and pull off my sweats and underwear. I go over and crawl on top of him, letting our flesh meet slowly until we are fully pressed up against one another.

His hands travel down my side and then cup my ass, pulling me even tighter against himself. I cup his face in my hand and join our lips again, tasting him with a new urgency. After a frenzy of heated moments, rubbing and pawing at each other, I pull away and whisper in his ear, "I want to make you feel good."

I roll to the side and let my hands travel down his body. I keep my eyes trained on his face so I can study his reaction. When my hand grasps his hardness he takes a sharp intake of breath, closes his eyes, and forms a small 'o' shape with his mouth. I work my hand up and down, gathering the fluid that has already leaked from the tip to ease my movements. I work a deliberately slow place and use my thumb to roll over the head when I reach the top.

"Katniss..." he breathes out and I can't help but smile hearing him say my name like that. Hearing him say my name like that is a small little victory, a way to show not all was lost and he won't always be filled with rage and anger at the thought of me like the Capitol had planned.

I start to increase my movements, seeing him start to jerk his hips in response and getting worked up myself. He is thrusting his himself into my hand and panting heavily. He cries out when he finally comes, leaving my hand and his stomach covered in his come.

I help him clean up with some tissues from my night stand as he recovers. When his breathing starts to return to normal and he has come back down from his high he looks at me carefully.

"Why are you doing this?" He asks, pushing a stray piece of hair behind my ear.

_Because I love you._

The thought springs up out of nowhere and it startles me so much that I have to work not to allow the emotion it causes to register on my face. I am too much of a coward to say that out loud or even admit that to myself.

"Because I care about you...a lot," I settle for saying instead, "...and I want to help you get better...and you deserve something good," I add, tracing my fingers across his chest, absentmindedly drawing patterns and avoiding his eyes.

"I just...I want to make sure you don't think you owe me or something," Peeta explains grabbing my face to get me to look at him. He sees the confusion in my eyes and elaborates, "It's not your fault they hijacked me."

Immediately I feel on the verge of tears. Even after everything he's been through Peeta is the one reassuring me. He is not simply thinking about himself, but trying to relieve my guilt over the hell he's been put through. It makes me realize the old Peeta really is in there and is making his way back to me. It makes me feel so fortunate I didn't lose him forever.

Instead of responding I crawl back on top of him and rejoin our lips. I'm tasting him with a sense of desperation and rubbing our naked bodies against one another in a frenzy of heated movements. The ache between my legs grows stronger and my body takes over control of my actions, moving instinctually and in search of that pleasure I have been finding on my own the past few nights.

I grind my hips against his hardness, rubbing my wetness along the length of his shaft. We moan in unison, the feeling sending sparks through my body that leave me incapable of thinking of anything other than how good this feels. I get more desperate, pushing myself against him as I try find some pressure and friction for that bundle of nerves. While I'm panting and moaning against him he grabs me by the back of my legs and swiftly flips me over so I'm lying on my back and he's hovering above me.

It takes me off guard for a moment, especially since he is in such a position of power now, but his lips find the curve of my neck and I know it's okay. His hands travel down my body and when he makes contact with my wetness I can't help whimpering in pleasure. It feels better than what I even imagined. I cling to his body as he starts pumping his fingers inside of me and my hips thrust back against his hand in response. His movements get faster and I'm panting hard, feeling the tension build.

"Peeta..." I moan out, losing all control.

His thumb presses down on the that bundle of nerves, working it in slow, circular motions and I all but lose it. I feel my insides clench around his fingers and I cry out, shock waves shooting through my body. This is ten times greater than the release I've been finding on my own.

My fingernails dig into his back hard as I ride out the euphoria. It's not until my brain starts to function normally again that I notice Peeta's entire demeanor has changed. His eyes are closed, he is breathing heavily and his body is tense and rigid. I study him just long enough to realize what is happening, he is fighting off Capitol induced nightmares in his head, before his eyes shoot open and he grabs me by my wrists and roughly holds me down.

A momentary feeling of panic shoots through me as I realize how vulnerable I am right now. I can see the anger in his eyes, not murderous and out of control, but definitely still enough to have an effect on him. I decide not to be afraid though because I know this is something we'll still have to work through, even as he makes progress.

"Peeta, it's okay," I whisper gently, not fighting back against his hands, but letting him stay in control. "I'm not going to hurt you. It's all lies, everything the Capitol made you believe isn't true."

His hands tighten around my wrists a little, but I see a flicker of doubt in his eyes, like he is contemplating actually believing me. In an instant I make a decision and wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him against me, feeling his hardness rest between my legs. I grind my hips a little and I can see him slowly deflate, pulling away from the anger and giving into the feeling of pleasure where we are connected. He releases my hands and drops his head against my shoulder.

He mumbles something that sounds like an apology, but I just run my hands though his hair and keep pressing my hips against him. When my movements start growing in pace and desperation he rolls off to the side.

"We should wait..." he says, pulling me against him and running an arm down my side. I'm relieved to have pulled him from his episode, but momentarily confused over why we have stopped those heated movements. "We should wait...to do that," he mutters awkwardly, not looking at me, and I realize what he means.

"Yeah, you're right," I agree, resting my head on his shoulder, and he is. We aren't ready for that step yet and it wouldn't be right to do that when he is only slowly starting to make his way back to me.

We lay there in silence for a short while, breathing in unison, running our hands over each other's bodies in soothing movements. After a while Peeta finally speaks up, "Thanks...for that...it was...really good," he manages to stutter out and I can't help the grin that appears on my face.

"I'm glad," I respond, lifting my head to meet his eyes and we exchange shy smiles.

"Is that what you brought me here tonight for?" He questions, and I see a hint of amusement in his eyes. I can't help the blush that suddenly appears and I look away, biting down on my lower lip.

"Maybe," I mutter, feeling my embarrassment grow.

"Well, it helped," he says, pulling my face to his so our eyes meet. He leans in and joins our lips for a soft kiss.

When we pull away, I study him carefully. "Really?" I ask skeptically.

"Well, yeah..." He says, as his hand strokes my arm up and down. "That part I was telling you about that I can't ignore? That part of me that knows I really care about you? It feels like it actually got to be in control tonight, it got to decide what I think and do instead of the Capitol's poison."

Relief washes over me as I hear Peeta confirm what I could only have wished for. It gives me confidence and hope that he will keep getting better. I reach up and kiss him, smiling when I pull away at his tender embrace and gentle demeanor. It's gratifying to have had my plan work out so well when so few things in my life seem to ever go right.

"Do you think I could...stay here with you?" He asks timidly, and then hastily adds, "just for a little while."

"Sure," I smile, reaching out to cover our bare bodies with the bed sheets. "For a little while," I add, placing a kiss on his cheek because we both know he needs to get back to his room before morning.

We lie awake just holding each other for a while. My head rests on his chest and the sound of his heart beat is so comforting and soothing, a reminder that he is still alive and well despite everything he has endured. I can tell from the slowing, steady rhythm of his breathing he is starting to drift off, but I am not tempted by sleep. I want to lie here awake and aware in his arms as long as possible.

I don't know where we go from here, what we do if anyone finds out, or how to explain what will hopefully be the great strides Peeta has made in his recovery overnight. I cringe at the idea of even having to share an edited version of 'my plan' with his doctors, or worse, Haymitch and Plutarch. Sometime later, after thinking through the logistics of how we move forward and reliving the pleasure we shared earlier, I decide we should probably get him back to his room.

Before I even have a chance to rouse him though, he starts muttering in his sleep, tossing and turning with a pained expression on his face. I recognize the signs of a nightmare, whether Capitol induced or simply haunted memories from the past, I can't really tell.

I push the hair away from his face, softly stroking his head as I lean forward and whisper words or reassurance in his ear. "Peeta, it's okay...it's okay, Peeta," I tell him and he wraps his arms around me as he comes to. I can feel him trying to compose himself, recovering from whatever horror was just floating through his consciousness.

He is practically trembling and my heart aches at the pain he has to endure, all that he has suffered. I press a kiss to his cheek and slowly work my way down, trailing my lips down his throat and across his chest. He starts to relax a little, giving into the feel of my lips on his skin. I feel that ache between my own legs grow, but I only want to focus on Peeta and making him feel good.

I work my way lower, down his stomach until I'm even with his hardness and it seems like the most natural thing in the world when my tongue makes contact with him.

When I wrap my lips around his head a kind of wild, animalistic urge consumes me. I start to lick and suck him until he is thrusting his hips. I try and take him more fully in my mouth, desperate to get him off. His hands tangle in my hair and he cries out in ecstasy. I can feel he is trying to pull away, ready to finish, but I refuse to move.

My vision goes blurry for a moment as he comes in my mouth. It overwhelms me how much his own pleasure has an affect on me. _That's what love is_, I hear a voice whisper in my head, how seeing him happy makes me more happy than makes sense.

The realization is daunting and a little hard to accept, but it's in this moment that I know without a shadow of a doubt that it's true. I love Peeta Mellark, I think as the full weight of what this means hits me. Sharing this physical pleasure, having this intimate trust, being as close as two people can be has forced me to face the reality of what I've been denying for too long.

I am suddenly no longer afraid of how we move forward from here or if he'll continue to get better or any of the possible outcomes of the war.

As long as I have this, as long as I have him, I'm not really afraid of anything anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Now normally I don't do this, but it seemed like a lot of you were really interested in seeing this continue so it got me thinking and I've decided to turn this into a 3 parter. Here's the deal, more reviews = faster I get to working on the next, and final part :) muahaha (evil laugh). I'm so glad you all enjoyed this little piecee and hope you enjoy it's continuation. Let me know what you think!**

I hover in that time and space between dreams and reality the next morning.

My thoughts are consumed by Peeta. I think back to last night, his mouth on mine, the feel of his warm flesh pressed up against my own, the intensity of my orgasm when he made me come. I can feel the smile on my face as my brain tries to pull myself into consciousness, but I try to fight it off just a little longer.

I want to stay in this moment for as long as possible.

I remember his gentle, passionate movements, loving me the way he used to before the hijacking. It is an intoxicating combination of pleasure and victory, thinking back to our actions last night. Being with him, touching him, making each other feel things not yet experienced would have been enough to spark the giddiness I feel now regardless of the circumstances. The fact we shared this in spite of his current state, working his way back from the hijacking, is something to be celebrated.

For the first time in longer than I can remember I feel hopeful.

Peeta can get better, he is getting better, he will get better.

Snow didn't take the boy with bread from me forever.

With the hope that Peeta can recover and the memory of the passion we shared last night, I'm struck with a new sense of determination to fill my role as the Mockingjay and aid the rebels in their mission to bring down Snow's government. I will do everything in my power to stop this tyranny, to make sure there is never another Hunger Games.

I sink further into my bed, pulling the sheets around me and inhaling the subtle scent of Peeta that still lingers. I allow myself to replay moments from last night in my mind's eye when a loud voice startles me.

"I need details!"

I peek one eye open and see Johanna standing over my bed, her hands on her hips.

"Morning," I croak out, shooting her a small smile.

"Details!" She demands again, throwing the covers off of me and I groan in complaint.

"Don't give me that," she snaps, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "I risked my ass last night for you."

"I know," I sigh, relenting that I have to actually get up now and figure out a way to explain what happened last night. "and thank you, everything went perfect, I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You would have been screwed," she returns point blank, "because you don't exactly have too many friends to ask, unless you wanted to explain to Gale why you needed to see Peeta alone and late at night." She laughs and punches me in the shoulder.

I wince at the contact but can't help thinking that she's right. The idea of talking with Gale about what Peeta and I shared last night, or what it means, or why I needed to do it, makes me nauseas. I feel guilty. Not because I'm betraying Gale or still struggling with my feelings for him, but because my feelings are so much clearer to me now and I know it will hurt him to hear the truth.

I push Gale out of my thoughts, saving that obstacle for later.

I look back at Johanna, and struggle to formulate words. "So umm...last night went pretty good," I manage to get out and then the look on Peeta's face when I finished taking him in my mouth comes to mind and I flush beet red.

"Wow, that good?" Johanna nods, impressed. "Jeez, I don't know how we all didn't come up with this sooner. Peeta's a guy. He's also madly in love with you. You jumping his bones is clearly all he needed to forget all this 'she killed my family and is a mutt' business."

I shake my head and bite back a smile. "It was more than that," I protest, not liking that it sounds like it was just about us hooking up. "I just wanted him to remember that he cared about me." I mutter and look away, embarrassed.

"I know," Johanna replies, touching a hand to my arm in a comforting gesture. "Trust me Katniss, I still think of you as pure," she laughs "you wouldn't have done this for anyone other than Peeta. It makes sense. You love him."

I swallow the lump in my throat and look away, feeling oddly emotional. I can't talk about it, but I can feel it. I can acknowledge it my mind, but nothing more. It still seems like such a huge thing to actually say the words and express it out loud.

"He told me that it helped him," I offer, meeting her eyes again. "He still has these impulses to hurt me, I think, but the old him is still there and when we kissed it was like it used to be."

"Well, that's good to hear," Johanna smiles, and she looks genuinely pleased, "a small victory against that bastard Snow." She grins, and I realize this is her victory too. She was locked up with Peeta and suffered along side him. Him getting better is almost like she's getting better.

"I thought it would be so hard, him being angry and not trusting me," I trail off, remembering his initial reluctance last night, smashing the cup, pinning me against the wall. "But we kissed and it kind of just melted away. It was just him and me and nothing else mattered," I stare off into space dreamily, reliving some of the moments that came after our kissing.

"Yeah, so just kissing?" Johanna asks, her eyebrows raised as she surveys me carefully.

"Umm...a little more than that," I admit, blushing and biting my lip to keep the smile from spreading. She was so integral in making it all happen, maybe she does deserve some details. "We didn't umm...go all the way, but we certainly enjoyed ourselves."

"Enjoyed yourselves?" She repeats with a smile. "Was Peeta enjoying himself with your mouth wrapped around his-"

The door to our room bursts open before she can finish her sentence and Haymitch appears, unshaven and greasy haired. "We need to see you after breakfast," he grunts.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Johanna returns, getting up off my bed and moving back to her side of the room, "I have _such_ a busy day planned with my head doctors."

"Not you...her," he replies gruffly, clearly not finding her amusing. "Come to the doctor's room that monitors Peeta. See you then," he adds looking at me directly before closing the door.

"Uh oh, maybe they found out about last night," Johanna whispers in false terror. "I bet they're going to make you reenact whatever you did to help Peeta so much!" She laughs. "I hope they're ready for quite the show," she smirks.

I throw my pillow at her laughing figure and get dressed.

* * *

I linger over breakfast and take my time getting to the Doctor's room. I am suddenly fearful about what they want and what they know, if anything, happened between me and Peeta. I take a deep breath and tell myself it will be okay. Peeta and I agreed to keep everything a secret. We should be fine.

I enter the familiar room where Haymitch, Plutarch and a couple of the Doctor's assigned to Peeta's case are facing the two way mirror that allows them to see into his room. Peeta is seated on the reclined chair, unrestrained and calmly watching the monitor in front of him.

I study him for a moment and feel the smile appear on lips. His wavy hair, defined jaw, broad shoulders - all the memories from last night come rushing back and I have to bite down on my lower lip to keep myself from grinning like an idiot. I remember rubbing against him, taking his mouth in mind, holding his hardness in my hand.

I'm finally broken out of my thoughts when Plutarch calls my name, "Katniss! You're here."

"You told me to come," I shrug, attempting to return to an emotionless state. "Yes, yes, well we have some very exciting news," he elaborates.

I do my best to look intrigued and surprised.

"The boy has made leaps and bounds in his recovery," Haymitch explains coolly. I meet his eyes as he searches my face. His tone is very matter of fact and instantly I know he is suspicious of something, but he is not quite sure what of. He isn't telling me the news like he should, like it's the best news I'll hear all day. He knows I already know. "Seemingly overnight," he adds, and the ghost an amused smirk flickers across his face, but it never quite gets there.

"Oh, really?" I answer nonchalantly.

"We've been showing him old videos of the two of you all morning," one of the Doctors speaks up. "He hasn't needed one morphling does. He's able to tell us exactly what happened and why. It's remarkable really."

"That's great," I reply, trying to sound enthused but under control. I feel a wave of pleasure and elation run through me that Peeta is still getting better, that last night wasn't just a temporary thing.

"We wanted you to be the first one to know," Plutarch grins at me and I can see his mind working a mile a minute.

"If he keeps up at this place, he'll be moved into his old room in a couple of days, and could even potentially join combat training at some point," another Doctor adds.

"We'll need him to shoot some propos first, of course," Plutarch adds and then turns to me, "The two of you together would be gold."

My face falls and I shoot him a cold glare. Instead of saying anything I turn on my heel and leave the room. Peeta is better and all he can think about is exploiting the star crossed lovers again to rally the troops. I am sick of our relationship feeling like a sham, like some publicity stunt that was just cooked up to ignite this war. My stomach twists as I think about what I've come to accept, privately and in only the deepest parts of my heart and mind: I love him. I love him and I will not have our relationship used or manipulated anymore. It is too special for that.

I'm storming down the hall when I hear the door open behind me.

"Katniss," Haymitch calls out for me and I hesitate for a moment and eventually stop, waiting for him to catch up to me.

"Don't worry about Plutarch," he explains, "that's just how his brain is wired. He's always looking for some good publicity."

I cross my arms in front of my chest and stare back at him coolly. "Well, I don't really feel like having my relationship with Peeta used for publicity purposes," I respond.

Haymitch lifts an eyebrow at me. "Your relationship with Peeta?"

"I just mean..." I falter and feel myself blush. I'm not going to be good at keeping this a secret. "I mean-"

Haymitch takes pity on me and speaks up. "Here's the thing sweetheart, sometimes you got to pick your battles. If the boy really is making a full recovery Plutarch isn't going to stop until he gets some footage of the pair of you side by side rallying the troops. You're better off giving him something to appease him and get him off your case than dodging him forever. Just make sure it's on your terms."

I let his words sink in and realize he's right. There's no way of getting out of this if Peeta really is back to normal. The best I can do is make a few demands and have as much control over the situation as possible, like when I agreed to become the Mockingjay.

"You're right, thanks," I finally mumble in return.

"Pretty crazy, the boy just getting better overnight, huh?" Haymitch questions and I meet his eyes and try not to give anything away.

"Wonder what could have had such an affect on him?" He adds and I think I see him smirk before he turns and leaves.

I watch him walk back to the doctor's room. I'm not sure what he knows, but the idea of him finding out what we did last night makes me cringe.

* * *

At lunch that day I sit with Delly, Finnick and Annie. Johanna has a session with her doctors and I'm secretly grateful for Gale's absence, whatever the reason. Halfway through the meal I find myself staring at Finnick and Annie across the table. The way they hold hands the entire time, how Finnick leans over and whispers into her ear, how Annie looks at him like he put the sun in the sky.

For the first time in my life I openly acknowledge that I want what they have.

I want Peeta by my side. I want to be unafraid of expressing how much I care about him, unafraid of who knows it. The thought makes me feel silly and light and so much like a teenage girl. It's beyond liberating to finally let myself see something that has been there the whole time.

Delly speaks up, interrupting my thoughts. "Did you guys hear about Peeta? Isn't it such good news? I knew he would get better."

"You're faith in me is heart warming, Delly," a voice responds across the table.

I look up to see Peeta standing there holding his tray of food, unaccompanied by guards. The sight of him makes my heart skip a beat. His eyes flick to mine for just a moment, but in that one look we tell each other everything we can't say out loud.

"Can I join you guys?" He asks and when we all mutter our agreement he takes the seat directly across from me, sitting to Finnick's right. I feel my heart throb in my chest when he looks directly across at me and smiles warmly.

"So we hear you're making progress?" Finnick asks.

"Yeah, definitely," Peeta nods in agreement, biting into his food. "I just had a really good night of sleep and I woke up feeling like a new person."

I keep my head down and have to bite down hard on my lower lip to stop myself from grinning.

"That's so great, Peeta," Delly returns enthusiastically. "And I heard they might be releasing you from around the clock care soon, right?"

"Yup," Peeta nods, "they're starting me off slow right now. This is actually one of the tests. They're going to let me start eating my meals unsupervised and see how I do."

"I'm so glad you're doing better," I feel the words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. We share a charged moment, maintaining eye contract for longer than necessary and I finally look away flustered.

In the awkward silence that follows I'm sure that Finnick, Annie, and Delly are staring at us, putting two and two together and figuring out what's going on. When I lift my head to peak at them however, everyone is silently finishing their meals.

I clean my plate in a hurry, knowing I'll be hungry later if I don't eat and desperate to find a way to see Peeta alone. I look over at him across the table and I feel the need to take him in my arms and kiss him, like I feel the need to breathe.

I reach out with my right leg in search of his own. I graze my foot against his ankle and see him flinch ever so slightly. I trail my foot up his leg, to his knee, and then slowly move it along his inner thigh, dangerously close to his groin.

He stiffens and looks across the table at me. I smirk ever so slightly and hold his eye contact. He reaches down with his hand under the table and grabs my foot. He presses my instep against the bulge in his pants and we both flinch and stifle a groan, attracting the attention of the other people seated beside us.

I pull my foot away and attempt to regain some composure. I keep my head down and finish the last bits of my meal. Coincidentally or not, Finnick, Annie, and Delly all stand in unison, picking up their trays.

"Well, we got a schedule to follow," Finnick explains as they turn to leave.

"See you guys later," Delly adds, and in an instant they're gone.

I look over at Peeta and we share relieved smiles. Our bodies visibly deflate and our demeanor completely changes.

"How much time do you have before you have to be back?"

He looks up at the clock on the wall behind me.

"Almost an hour," he laughs. "Guess they thought eating my first meal on my own would be a lot more difficult."

"Good," I grin and stand with my tray, imploring him to follow me.

* * *

I drag Peeta into the familiar utility closet where I used to spend my time hiding out when I first got to 13. I tried to make sure no one saw us but I was in such a hurry to get him alone I'm not quite sure I succeeded.

The moment the door closes he pushes me against it and his mouth finds mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. He presses against me, chest against chest, groin against groin. I know it's not even been 12 hours since we last did this, but it feels like an eternity.

He pulls away and starts planting kisses along the line of my jaw and down my neck. I wrap my arms around him and sigh, running my hands through his hair. It is intoxicating, being with him like this. Nothing has ever felt this good. Especially now, after everything we've been through, after finally admitting to myself what I've known for so long, I can't imagine not having this.

"You feel so good," Peeta murmurs against my neck, his lips tickling my skin.

"How are you feeling?" I ask pulling away to look him in the eyes. "Have you been really doing as good as they said? Have you had any flashbacks?"

"Honestly, I feel good," He explains, resting his hands on my hips. "It's not that the bad thoughts and altered memories aren't there anymore. It's just that when I feel the urge to attack or get angry I close my eyes and think about last night."

He drops his gaze and a hint of blush creeps across his cheeks.

I suddenly feel on the verge of tears, seeing that what we did last night meant as much to him as it did to me, that it helped him even more than I could have hoped for.

I pull him towards me, urging my tongue through his parted lips. He moans and presses his hips into me, his hardness rubbing against my leg, igniting that desire in me only he can evoke.

I pull away to catch my breath, "Peeta..." I mumble against lips, "I want you so much."

We break apart and the look he gives me, that combination of love and desire sets me alight. I'm overwhelmed by my need for him now. It feels nothing like before, even the times when I would let my guard down and admit the connection I feel to him, it is so much more intense. It was a steady rain before. This is a thunderstorm.

I want to feel as close as possible to him. I want to make him feel good like last night because it brought him back to me, away from the evilness of Snow and back to the old, caring, kind Peeta.

I reach down and pull off my t-shirt. Looking into his eyes I see the passion and desire to take this further that is surely reflecting in my own. I reach behind me and unclip my bra letting it fall to the floor. His eyes travel down to my chest and widen just slightly as he takes in the sight of me. He swallows thickly and slowly raises a hand to touch me.

He is so gentle at first, softly cupping me in his hand and squeezing lightly. I whimper and involuntarily buck my hips toward him, feeling my insides respond to his touch, growing wet. He uses his fingers to pull at my nipple and I can feel the direct connection to my center, throwing my head back in pleasure.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, raising his other hand to grasp my other breast.

He kneads the flesh softly for a moment, using his exquisitely strong and skilled hands to make me feel things only he can.

"Peeta," I moan and I'm so desperate for more of this and to make him feel how he's making me feel.

I reach out and undo the button of his pants, pulling down the zipper and immediately tugging the material down his hips. I sink to my knees so I am face to face with his boxers. I ease the waistband of his boxers down, revealing his erection.

"Katniss," he breathes out and he is practically quivering. I inwardly smile, loving that I can have such an effect on him, loving that I can make him feel this good.

I take him in my hand and he is so incredibly hard. The skin is impossibly soft and he is leaking moisture from his tip. I look up at him and he is wide eyed, staring at me in awe. I give him a small smile and take him in my mouth, feeling myself respond at the way he groans, long and low, and places his hands on my head.

Pleasuring him like this is thrilling. Even on my knees I feel like his equal, his partner, controlling how he gets worked up and ultimately finds his release. I love that this shows how much I'm willing to give him, how focused I am on making sure he finds that mind blowing ecstasy that helps him inch away from the hijacked memories.

I place my hand at the base of his shaft and use my tongue to tease his tip. He groans and bucks his hips. I smile and take him deeper into my mouth, sucking on his hardness so the pressure and warmth of my mouth send him over the edge.

"Fuck Katniss!" He exclaims, but pushes deeper into my mouth.

When I can feel he's close I place my hands on his hips and swirl my tongue around his length, urging him to come. All his muscles tense and he stills, letting himself go. Instead of feeling dirty or crass, the physical evidence of his pleasure in my mouth is the ultimate satisfaction, knowing what I did to him, how I can affect him.

I pull away and stand up and he immediately takes me in his arms, breathing hard. "Katniss...that was..." He's struggling to regain composure and I can't help the triumphant grin that appears on my face. "I don't even..." He stops and starts again. "You're amazing, you know that?"

I beam at him and our lips connect, mingling in a passionate dance for a moment. "I want to do that to you," he whispers against my ear when we pull away, and every muscle in my body tenses, both from excitement and apprehension. "Not here, not yet, though," he adds.

Not a moment later he slips his hand into the loose fitting, pants I'm wearing and strokes me softly through my underwear. I whimper and cling to his shoulders, feeling my knees go weak.

In one quick motion he pulls my pants and underwear to the ground, leaving them around my feet. He pushes me against the door and uses his knee to part my legs, opening myself up to him. He inserts two fingers inside me and we both moan in unison.

"You feel so good," her murmurs against my neck.

He takes his now wet fingers and places them against the bundle of nerves at the apex of my thighs. I cry out as he increases the pressure and rubs in slow circles. He is leaving a trail of kisses along my neck and across my collarbone as his hands continue to work me. Everything inside me is coiling like a spring, pleasure filling my entire being.

He takes his fingers and pushes inside me again and uses his thumb to continue working against that pleasure point. I throw an arm around his neck, desperate to hold on because I feel like my legs are going to give out. The tension is building and my hips buck against his fingers that are now thrusting into me at an increasing pace.

"Peeta!" I cry out, feeling like I'm about to lose control, like I'm about to fall off the edge.

He slams three fingers inside me urgently and cups my sensitive mound in the process causing me to come apart at the seams. I cry out in ecstasy, feeling my body explode as the waves of pleasure are so great my legs literally give out from under me.

I would have collapsed to the floor if his strong arms hadn't wrapped around my waist, holding me against him as I ride out the euphoria. I cling to him as I come back down from my high. I'm trembling and covered in a thin layer of sweat. When my breathing finally slows and I can think straight again, I pull back to look at him. He wears a small smile and pushes the hair out of my face.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, cupping my face in his hand.

I kiss him softly, feeling like my heart is about to explode from everything I feel for him. Inside I am practically shouting 'I love you!' but the words don't quite make it to my lips. I hold back, afraid of something I can't quite express.

We get dressed in silent and steal a few more kisses before we make sure there is no one lurking around outside and exit the closet. We part ways and I'm desperately trying to figure out when I'll be able to see him and do that again.

* * *

Two days pass and we still haven't found another moment to ourselves. I only see him at meals and we have to act friendly and nothing more in front of everyone else. I am constantly being dragged to a session of shooting propos or rigorous combat training outside.

I start getting frustrated from the lack of interaction and worried that he might not recover as fast or at all, without me. Luckily Plutarch assures me that he is continually getting better and will be released to his own room in a day or so.

The thought makes me giddy in anticipation of what we could do all by ourselves in his room.

After sitting in on a strategy meeting I head to the kitchen for dinner when it finishes. I decide to tell Peeta that I want to take it to the next step when he gets his own room. I hope doing so will force me to finally say the words I've been holding back. I feel like he needs to hear them, so he knows the real reason why I'm doing this. I owe it to him to be the one to say this after all he's done for me.

I'm about to turn the corner when I hear my name.

"Katniss!" a voice shouts from behind me, "Wait up!"

I turn and find Gale lightly jogging towards me. I immediately feel guilty because I don't want to stand here and talk to him, I want to go find Peeta. I remind myself that I've barely spoken to him since the night I "helped" Peeta and he deserves more from me.

"Hey, what's up?" I ask, trying to be casual.

"Pretty dry stuff in there, huh?" He smiles at me and I only then realize he was in the same strategy meeting I was just sitting in on. I feel a stab of regret that suddenly my oldest friend no longer means what he used to for me. He is no longer that one source of comfort or friendship that was my salvation. Now the only person I want to turn to and share that kind of intimacy with is Peeta.

"Yes, very dull," I murmur in agreement and I cringe at the stiff, awkwardness that has crept in between us.

"Have you um, seen or talked much to Peeta?" Gale asks. "I heard he's practically made a full recovery."

I look into his eyes, searching for some insight into what he's thinking. The thought makes me frown when I remember I used to be able to read him like a book. I try and see where he's coming from, if he's just making conversation or wants to gage my reaction on the topic.

"A little bit," I reply, not giving to much away.

"Right, well..." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and shifts awkwardly on his feet. "I just didn't know if you had a chance to talk to him about you know, you guys...or us." He mutters, not meeting my eyes.

I swallow thickly, realizing where he's going with this. This is about what he said before, how he actually wanted Peeta to get better so that he could have a fighting chance. So he could know that I wasn't just clinging to a deranged, hijacked boy that would never come back to me.

"Gale...I..." I trail off, no idea where to go or how to explain everything that needs to be said. He deserves more from me, he deserves to hear the truth from me, no matter how much it might hurt. It will kill me to do this to him, but if in the end I get Peeta out of all this it will have been worth it.

"Look, I'm not asking you to make up your mind right now, Catnip," Gale interrupts me, placing a hand on my arm. The touch feels foreign. Did I ever really think about Gale as more than just a friend? I know for certain I have never felt the kind of desire for him I feel for Peeta when he touches me.

"I just want you to know that I'm still here too. I've been here. And I care about you...a lot..." His voice is soft and he leans towards me. My stomach twists uncomfortably. How can I do this to my best friend, the person who has always been there for me? How can I just out right reject him without any respect for what we've meant to each other for so long?

The guilt makes me cringe and I wish I could comfort him, tell him something that won't break his heart and make me heavy with the knowledge of hurting him.

"I care about you too, Gale," I say, knowing it's the truth because although my heart belongs to Peeta, it doesn't change the fact that I care for Gale, that I always have.

A smile creeps across his face and before I can even react he leans in and presses his lips to mine.

I pull away immediately and look up at him in shock. His eyes meet mine but then flicker over my shoulder.

I turn around to find Peeta staring at the pair of us.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: You guys are amazing! All the reviews made me write this so much faster than I initially planned :) Thank you so much. Hope you enjoy the conclusion to this story and how I wrapped things up. I would love to hear your feedback on certain aspects of this that allude to or mirror a lot of what really ended up happening in Mockingjay. I don't have any plans for writing more as of right now, but reviews always help my muse *wink wink* haha - thanks and enjoy!**

My heart pounds in my chest as I stand frozen in shock. I study Peeta's face in horror, searching for any signs of what he's thinking, any indication that he is about to lose control.

But I find nothing. His face is blank, giving nothing away as he simply looks back and forth between me and Gale.

I open my mouth to speak but no words come out.

The silence grows uncomfortable and stretches out as the seconds pass by, heightening the tension between the three of us.

"Peeta," I finally manage to gasp and take a step towards him.

Just as I do however, Plutarch appears from around the corner of the hallway behind Peeta, grinning widely. He sees me and his face lights up even more.

"Katniss!" He exclaims, coming to stand between Peeta and I. "I was just escorting Peeta to the control room. He's going to shoot some propos for us today. Nothing big of course, we don't want to rush him. Just a few one liners we can intercut with some of your footage. The rebels are going to love seeing him back on their side again."

I swallow thickly as I look back to Peeta's face, but he diverts his gaze and stares at the floor. I feel a kind of blind terror rise up in me that I can't keep at bay. I'm instantly terrified that he'll have a flashback or fly into a fit of anger over what he just saw. I bite down hard on my lower lip, praying that he stays in control.

Plutarch stares back and forth between Peeta and I for a moment and then clears his throat. "Okay, well we really should be going."

He pushes past me and Peeta follows him without a word. I watch them disappear down the hall feeling helpless.

I look back at Gale who is searching my face for answers.

"Are you okay?" He asks and I offer him a weak nod.

"I'm not sorry for kissing you," he says, taking a step closer to me, reaching out and touching my arm.

I sigh, brought back to my earlier predicament of how to best explain to him my current situation. I need to figure out a way to make him understand without making him hate me.

"Gale, I..." I trail off, no idea where to even begin. I have to tell him that my mind is fully made up, that I love Peeta and want to be with him, and only him. I have to make him understand that there will never be anything between us other than friendship.

"Look, just take some time and think about it. I know this is all new with Peeta getting back to normal and everything, but it doesn't change how I feel."

He offers me a small smile and leans in and kisses my cheek.

He turns and walks down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

* * *

I don't see Peeta until the next day and it is not at breakfast like I had hoped. In being absent from the dining hall I was convinced that he had a flashback that set all his progress back and was now being restrained and given morphling doses while being monitored full time.

Which is why I am completely stunned when he joins us outside for combat training. I watch with a mix of apprehension and surprise as two guards lead him around the obstacle course and explain the various drills. He follows their instructions and I watch him complete the physical tasks, looking calm and level headed.

"Katniss!" Johanna shouts, making me jump and breaking me from my trance.

"I know you're easily distracted by the sight of Peeta and everything, but you might want to pay attention. You are holding a loaded gun and everything," she quips.

I shoot her a cold glare for mentioning me and Peeta, she knows that we are trying to keep everything a secret between us. I look over her shoulder and see Gale watching us, probably having overheard what she just said. He looks annoyed and angry for a moment before he looks away and refocuses on loading his gun.

We continue with normal combat training for the rest of the time, practicing with the guns and going through simulation drills where our leaders give us commands of when to attack and how to proceed forward as a unit. I can't help my gaze from constantly wandering over to Peeta who is training on his own with the supervision of two guards. I'm reprimanded twice for not paying attention but I can't find it within myself to care. Al I want to do is go talk to him and fix things and make sure he understands.

It doesn't help that his shirt is so tight you can see every muscle on his torso, straining through the fabric. He isn't as strong as he once was, but he's getting back some definition.

When I finally manage to tear my eyes away from him at one point I see Gale watching me intently, a sad look across his face.

After training finishes I decide I can't put this off any longer. I ask our squad leaders if Gale and I can have some time out alone in the woods to hunt like they allow us to do sometimes. We're given the okay and I can feel the air thick with tension and awkwardness as we walk into the woods in silence together.

We barely make it past the first few trees before the words start spilling out from me. "Gale, look...you need to know something."

Gale sighs heavily and stops, leaning against the bark of a tree.

"Yeah...what's that?" He avoids my eyes and I can tell he's already upset.

"You know how much I care about you as a friend..." I begin, "you've always been there for me. You've been that constant support in my life since our dads died and I don't know what I would have done without you."

He looks anywhere but at me. He picks the bark from the tree and shakes his head sadly. "Yeah, but I guess that's not good enough, huh?"

Tears swim in my eyes and I try to fight off the emotion. "I'm sorry," I choke out, "I really am sorry."

He sighs heavily and finally looks up at me taking a step closer. "So that's it? 5 years of it just being me and you against the world and now it's over?"

"I don't know what you want me to say," I protest, letting the tears fall.

"I just...I just wonder if this isn't all just because of the Games. If you and him had never been reaped do you really think you would have ended up together, that you two would have even talked?"

"It doesn't matter, Gale!" I cry, any attempt at keeping it together gone, "we _were_ reaped. And we've been through so much together. He's the only one who understands..." I trail off, hating how this conversation is going.

"Is that it? You think I don't understand? I may not have been there Katniss, but I know what you've been through. I watched every minute of those games and I felt the knife going through me when I watched you suffer." He reaches out and places both hands on my shoulders, an attempt to steady me. "You and me..." He trails off, reaching up a hand to cup my face, "we're one in the same. We know each other like we know the woods outside of 12."

I take a deep shaky breath, feeling my emotions ready to boil over. All this feels wrong, being out here alone with him, him touching me. I want Peeta. I want him to take me in his arms and kiss me and make me forget.

"He can't take care of you like I can. He doesn't know you..."

"I love him!" The words slip out before I can stop them. I clasp my hand over my mouth in shock. I look up at Gale wide eyed. He looks like I just hit him over the head with a blunt object. His wide eyes are frantic as he struggles to regain his composure. He pulls away from me immediately and we stand there, staring at each other in silence.

We are both quiett for a long time, like the words I finally just spoke out loud had some magical properties, rendering us both speechless.

It feels like an eternity later when he finally speaks up and breaks the spell.

"If that's how you feel..." He turns and walks away, heading out of the woods and back towards 13.

I let him walk ahead of me for a moment and then follow.

* * *

At breakfast the next day I still haven't found a chance to talk with Peeta alone. I keep looking around the dining room wishing he would show up and hoping I don't run into Gale.

I'm stabbing at my food gloomily with no appetite when a hand on my shoulder startles me.

I look behind me to see Haymitch who looks at me almost sadly and then gestures with his head, "Come on."

I get up and follow him out of the room and into the hall where he proceeds to walk ahead of me, not saying anything more.

I follow him in silence for a while until I figure out where he's leading me. Before we approach the control room where the propos are shot I stop in my tracks and feel a wave of nausea wash over me.

"Haymitch!" I demand, loudly and angrily. "What the hell is going on?"

He sighs and turns back to face me. He approaches me like he would a wounded animal and doesn't meet my eyes.

He takes a deep breath and then says, "They want some shots of you and Peeta together..."

I interrupt him before he can go any further. "No! No way. I did not consent to his. I agreed to be their Mockingjay, not for them to exploit the whole star-crossed lovers thing."

Haymitch smirks at me and I cross my arms in front of my chest defensively.

"What?" I snap.

"Just interesting that you say 'exploit' rather than say...'fabricate'," Haymitch explains giving me a knowing look and I hate that I look away and can feel myself blush.

"I'm not stupid girl, I don't know how - and I sure as hell don't want to know - but I know you had something to do with the boy's sudden recovery..." He mutters.

I stare at my feet and cringe. This is the last topic in the world that I want to be discussing with Haymitch. "I just don't want to do this," I mumble.

"Of course you don't want to do this," Haymitch retorts. "Doesn't change the fact they're going keep asking until you cooperate. Might as well get it over with. Besides they just want to see you and the boy side by side, reading a couple of one liners."

I sigh and put my head in my hands, it doesn't really seem like I have much of a choice in the matter.

"Fine, let's do this," I grumble and follow Haymitch into the control room.

Someone hands me my Mockingjay uniform and I move quickly into a side room to get changed into it. When I return I can only make out Cressida, Plutarch and Haymitch among the unusually large crowd of people behind the cameras.

I walk past all of them and head straight for the mark I stood on when I had my first disastrous attempts at shooting these kind of propos weeks ago. I freeze mid-stride as the lights shine down on me and I finally notice the presence of someone else already at the mark.

Peeta stands in front of the cameras in some combat uniform I haven't seen him in before. He looks at me emotionless as I approach slowly and stand beside him.

"Hi," I say quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"Hey," he whispers back and I'm surprised at how calm he seems.

I let my eyes roam up and down his body, taking in his appearance. The uniform hugs his every muscle and I swallow thickly, feeling that familiar charge between us.

Plutarch steps out from the dark area of the room behind the cameras where everyone else stands. "We're so glad to have the both of you here. This is going to do wonders for the rebels morale."

I shift awkwardly on my feet and pray this is over with quickly.

"Now I don't want to push you two, but any show of unity would really help. Maybe just hold hands and take turns reading the cue cards we hold up." He says.

I open my mouth to protest, but before the words can even form on my lips Peeta grabs my hand in his. I look over at him in surprise and then down at our joined hands. A warm feeling rushes through me and I keep my mouth shut.

"Perfect," Plutarch smiles. "Now just alternate reading the lines and we'll be done before you know it." He steps back behind the cameras and I shoot Peeta a look of appreciation.

The corners of his mouth turn up a bit, but he has a sad, quiet look to him. The thought makes me ache and I want to drag him somewhere where we can be alone.

"Okay, you two," Plutarch shouts. "Action!"

We take turns reading the lines they want us to say into the camera with as much passion as we can muster. Peeta is strong and confident and when he speaks I feel like people will follow him into battle. He still has that way with words.

I, however, am still just as horrible at this as I was before. I honestly don't know why they even bother. And then my hand that is holding Peeta's starts to get sweaty because I am nervous about how I am completely messing this up and I have to pull away from him for a moment to dry it. Mostly our hand holding just looks awkward and unnatural as we stand there like statues, reading the scripted lines.

I can tell the group behind the cameras are not impressed and it makes me embarrassed that I'm so bad at this and mad that they tried to make me do this anyway. I am just about to say I've reached my limit for the day when a familiar voice speaks out among the group. It's after a particularly awkward shot where I tried to get really enthusiastic and jerked my arms into the air as I spoke, yanking Peeta's hand up high with me, but catching him off guard so he just kind of looked like a puppet, being dragged along.

"Not very inspiring stuff..." I hear the male voice say, making no attempt to lower his voice.

My eyes search the darkened area of the room behind the cameras, but it's hard because the light is shining directly on me and all the faces seem like a blur.

And then I see Gale leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking smug. I glare at him and feel the anger swell in my gut. He knows how much I hate doing this. He knows this wasn't my idea. I don't really appreciate him making fun of me and then I realize he's just being bitter and angry because of what happened earlier. I try to be considerate and think of his feelings and remember he is my friend but at the moment I would like nothing more than to go over to him and shove him in the chest. _Hard._

Instead I settle for something much better.

I turn to Peeta and grasp him by the shoulders. I pull his mouth to meet mine and feel his lips set me on fire. Our tongues find each other and it's like everything in the room just melts away. I kiss him for a long time and when I pull away I'm breathless. He stares at me wide eyed like he can't believe what I just did and then I turn to face the cameras.

"Snow tried to take everything important in my life away. He almost took my sister and he did his best to take Peeta. But he didn't succeed and I want him to know that we're coming for him. We're coming to end his reign of terror for everyone who has ever had Snow take something from them. We will find you and we will end this."

The words leave me through their own accord like it is someone else speaking entirely. I'm breathing heavily as I finish my speech and when I stop everyone in the room is quiet for a moment.

Finally, it's Haymitch who speaks up.

"Now that's what I call rallying the troops."

* * *

After we finished shooting the propos Peeta and I were pulled in separate directions before we even had a chance to talk. The next day I find Haymitch and he tells me Peeta is relocating to his own room and lets me know where to find him.

I was tempted to go in search of him instead of combat training, but then I remembered how he was at training last time. He isn't there though and I have to suffer through a few hours of physical exertion with Gale shooting me nasty looks the entire time.

I ignore him and remember the feel of kissing Peeta in front of the cameras, bright lights shining down on us, in a room full of people. It felt different from all the other times I've kissed Peeta for show. Probably because it is not about putting on a show anymore. I love Peeta and I'm not afraid to admit it to myself and I don't really care who knows.

The thought is liberating and exciting and scary all at once. It means giving up a sense of power and control, acknowledging you're in love with someone, I realize. But what you get in return is so worth the cost.

I rush through dinner and head back to my room to shower after training is over. I leave my hair to dry naturally and throw on an oversized shirt and some sweats. I realize I'm so anxious to find Peeta I don't really pause to think about how I look like.

I wind through the maze of hallways until I find the room I'm looking for. His room. I raise my hand tentatively to knock on the door and pause when I hear voices coming from inside. I press my ear to the door to listen.

"I'm sorry boy, but that's just the way it is," Haymitch's familiar voice mumbles.

"I understand," Peeta says quietly. "I'm not happy about it, but I understand.

I frown in confusion, wondering what they're discussing.

I'm too busy trying to make sense of the cryptic conversation that I look up, startled when Haymitch opens the door, on his way out.

He stares at me for a moment and then smirks and shakes his head.

"Not surprised to see you here," He says on his way past me.

He continues walking down the hallway without another word. I watch him go for a moment before turning back to the room. I slip in quietly and shut the door behind me, finding Peeta sitting on the edge of his bed. There is only his bed, a small dresser and a nightstand. The room is about half the size as mine and Johanna's.

"Hey," I say quietly, carefully approaching him.

He looks up and offers me a small smile. "Hi," he returns and I sit down next to him on the bed.

"I miss you," the words come out of me unbidden. It's true though. These past few days have been hell without him.

"Me too," he replies, but his eyes look unfocused and a shadow crosses his face.

"I'm so sorry," I blurt out, "About what you saw with Gale...it wasn't what it looked like."

He takes a deep breath and doesn't respond for a long moment. I hold my breath.

"I know," he says so quietly it's almost like a whisper.

"You know?" I ask.

"Yeah, I mean, I saw what happened. He kissed you. You pulled away," He says, void of any emotion.

"Oh okay..." I trail off, no idea what to say next. If he realizes what really happened, why doesn't it feel okay now.

We sit in silence for an uncomfortable stretch of time.

I'm just about to press him on the subject when he speaks up.

"The thing is..." He pauses and starts again, "The thing is seeing you with him, seeing him kiss you - even though I know it was one sided and all - it still brought back all these memories I have. Memories I'm pretty sure were never altered because the Capitol didn't have them on tape. Watching you tag along with him at school, the pair of you showing up at my back door to sell my dad squirrels, you asleep at his side after he got whipped."

I watch him carefully, feeling my heart ache at the clear pain in his eyes.

"And it just...I don't know, it just reminded me of how inadequate I've always felt compared to him. You guys have this thing, this connection and understanding that I'll never be able to compete with. It just makes me unsure...it makes me doubt..."

I stop him before he can get any further. "No, Peeta! Don't. Just don't, okay?" I feel almost panicky all the sudden. How could he possible think that he's not enough for me? I cringe as a small voice reminds me I've never really told him, that I've never once given him any reassurance that between him and Gale there is no comparison, that he wins every time.

"Gale is just a friend, an old friend and nothing more. I don't feel for him the way I feel for you. And I told him that already, after he tried to kiss me." I search his face, needing to make sure he believes every word I say. "Peeta..." I take a deep breath and prepare myself for what comes next, "Peeta, I love you. I love you so much I didn't care about my own safety the night I came to you. I love you in the kind of way that is so overwhelming and scary I spent the last year and a half ignoring what was right in front of me. You saved me Peeta. You saved me with that bread and you gave me a reason to keep going. I don't know what I would have done without you by side through these past two Games."

The tears are falling from my face but I make no attempt to brush them away.

He swallows thickly and searches my face for a moment. His expression is so intense I find it hard to look away. He lifts a hand to my face and uses the pad of his thumb to wipe the track of tears from my cheeks. "I've wanted to hear you say that for so long," he whispers, tilting his head towards me so the distance between us evaporates, so that we breathe the same air. "...it almost doesn't feel real now."

I smile a sad, crooked smile and grab his other hand and place it flat against my chest so he can feel my heart beat. "It is real, Peeta," I whisper trailing a thumb along his bottom lip. "I love you so much. I know that now without a doubt."

"Katniss..." He breathes out and I can't stand it any longer. I close the distance between us and press my lips to his. My hands wrap around his neck and we fall back against his bed. Our mouths find each other over and over again, tongues stroking and exploring while our hands and bodies ignite the passion we can't control.

We finally break away to catch our breaths and I suddenly feel close to tears. "Real. It's so real, Peeta. It's always been real. Everything I've ever done, including coming to you that night...it was about more than just being intimate with you...it was that I was willing to do anything to help you find your way back to me."

He stares down at me with a gentle look of awe and then smiles a slow, warm smile that lights up his whole face. He leans down and kisses me before making a trail down my neck and along my collarbone. His hot, wet lips make that now familiar feeling roar to life inside me. I buck my hips up towards him and whimper his name.

He rids me of my shirt and takes my breasts in his hands. He takes his time, using his mouth and fingers to work me until I am panting erratically. When he finally pulls down my sweats and peels off my underwear I am dripping wet. He trails his hand from my breast down over my stomach and then gently parts my legs. He lightly trails his fingers over my folds and gently rubs that bundle of nerves so that I moan and cling to him, the pleasure consuming every part of me.

He inserts two fingers inside me and we moan in unison. He drops his head to my shoulder and takes a deep, shuddering breath. "You're so wet..." he mumbles and presses his hips against my side, his hardness evident. He thrusts his fingers inside me a few times and I cry out. Before I even realize it he slides down my body and positions his head between my legs...right _there._

My breath hitches as I tense up, realizing what is about to happen. He doesn't do anything for a moment though and I peak an eye open, glancing down at him. He gives me a small smile and I instantly relax. "I just want to return the favor," he explains with a grin, "I don't know if I'll be as good at it as you are, but I want to try," he laughs.

The comment makes me blush and all my earlier apprehension is gone.

I want him to do this.

His face suddenly grows more serious as he presses a finger to that pleasure point that makes me squirm. "You're just so beautiful," he murmurs and his eyes darken, "I want to taste you."

And then he presses his tongue to me and I cease to think altogether. I practically scream and reach down, gently tugging on the ends of his hair. I thrust my hips towards him, urging him to go deeper, resting my legs on his shoulders.

His tongue is inside me and his fingers are working that bundle of nerves and I've lost all control. I moan loudly, and try to hold on but everything is building inside me and the pleasure is too much. Suddenly I feel it, my entire body tightening, my insides clenching and a wave of pleasure hits me with full force.

I scream and moan and call out his name so loud and for so long I'm completely lost in a daze as the pleasure rolls through me. My body is like dead weight and I eventually regain some composure and realize Peeta has pulled me in his arms and his stroking my back.

"I love you too," he whispers directly into my ear and I fall asleep, content in his arms.

* * *

A few days later there is a huge strategy meeting and everyone is there except Peeta. I glance around the room looking for him, but can't seem to find him. I'm sure there's just an oversight and he'll be here later. He has been increasing his combat training with no major setbacks and continues making progress everyday. I try not to meet Gale's eyes as I listen to Boggs and Coin make their speeches.

I'm not really paying attention until I hear them announce we will be moving into the Capitol with the other rebel forces to take down Snow and hopefully end this once and for all. We take off first thing tomorrow and the reality of this war finally coming to a head - coming to an end that could either destroy or save everything - makes me sick with nerves. I don't know if I'm ready for this.

I am just starting to accept that this will really all be over soon, either one way or the other, when Boggs reads off the list of soldiers that need to report tomorrow.

Peeta's name is not on the list.

I instantly feel anxious and panicky, unsure of what to make of this and scared of what it ultimately means - that I'll have to face this alone. I want to immediately scream my indignation and protests, but I hold my tongue until after the meeting finishes.

Instead of charging up to Coin or Boggs I find Haymitch and pull him to the side.

"What's going on? Why isn't Peeta going?" I ask, but even as the words leave me I already know the answer.

"It's too soon, sweetheart," Haymitch grumbles and there is no patronizing in his voice. He looks at me with sad eyes. "He hasn't been better for that long and everyone is concerned that sending him into a war zone will only end badly. He could jeopardize the mission or even hurt himself. The doctors say he's better, but he's not completely cured. Putting him into that environment...it could completely undo all the progress he's made."

As I process the words I realize that I completely agree with everything he's just said. I know logically it only makes sense not to have Peeta go. I know that it is in everyone's best interests if he stays behind. Still, though I can't help the small, selfish part of me that is terrified of doing this alone. That wants, and needs, him by my side to make it through whatever transpires on this mission.

I acknowledge Haymitch and wander out of the room in a daze. I find myself wandering the halls until I end up at Peeta's room without even realizing it. I open the door quietly to see him sitting up in bed, writing in a small notebook. He looks up at me as I enter and I close the door behind me, putting the notebook on his bed stand. His face changes to one of concern and I realize my eyes are red and I've been silently crying.

He holds out his arms for me and I move towards him and bury myself against his chest, letting him soothe me. "So they told you..." He mumbles against my hair and I look up at him and nod.

"They already told you?" I ask, wiping my eyes.

"A couple of days ago..." Peeta sighs. "I get it, I do. Part of me completely understands and even agrees with the decision, but..." He trails off and I see a familiar look in his eyes, being torn between what you want and what is right. "I just hate that I'm going to be separated from you. I want to be there to protect you. I feel sick thinking about if something happens..." He takes a shaky breath. "I don't know if I could handle it."

Unbidden, a small smile makes it way across my face as he voices the thoughts that mirror my own. I let out a small laugh and he looks at me questioningly. I take his face in my hands and press my lips to his.

"I feel the exact same way," I tell him when we break apart. "I don't want to risk you having a setback, but I wish you could be at my side. I don't want to do this alone."

He gives me a small smile and pulls me against him so we're laying back in the bed. "It'll be fine," he says after a while and I think he's trying to convince both of us. "We'll finally end all this and you and I will be okay," he says as he rolls on top of me so he's hovering above me. "No matter what happens," he adds and his eyes lock with mine and the intensity of his gaze takes my breath away. Something about the way he says it, with such passion and intensity in his voice, makes me actually believe his words, makes me understand and realize that no matter what does happen on this mission he and I will be okay in the end.

I pull him down to me and kiss him and try to express that I'll do whatever it takes to hold onto what we have when this is all over. Our mouths fuse together, quickly gaining heat.

He finally breaks away, breathless and looks down at me with eyes that are clouded over with love. "Just come back to me," he whispers and when he sees my look of confusion he quickly elaborates. "After the war ends...no matter what happens...just come back to me," he explains and his words makes something deep inside me wrench uncomfortably over something I can't quite explain. I ignore it though and let his unyielding love and support wrap me up and soothe my worries.

"Okay," I whisper and he holds my gaze for a moment.

"I'll take care of you...I'll help you like you helped me," he adds and although he is trying to comfort me I feel fear prick in the back of my mind that he is quietly alluding to the very real possibility that something terrible could happen on this mission. That he is silently telling me that I could be just as broken as he was with his hijacking when this is over.

I ignore those worries though and let myself focus on the fact that I still have Peeta no matter what happens. I comfort myself in the knowledge that we will take care of each other, that we help each other heal from whatever wounds, physical or emotional, are left after this all ends.

Our lips meet again and I whisper breathlessly to him between kisses, "I'll always come back to you...always."

We kiss deeply and slowly our clothes melt away until we are lying completely bare under the covers of his bed. I feel his hardness pressing against my inner thigh as his hand finds my breasts and my hands grasp his bare backside.

Something feels different from the other times we've been intimate together. Maybe it is the knowledge that tomorrow I leave on a mission that could change everything, but there's a feeling that this time is special, sacred.

I reach down and grasp his hardness in my hands. I study his face and note the way he closes his eyes and swallows thickly. I take his tip and rub it against my folds so that he can feel how wet I am, how ready I am.

His eyes shoot open to look at me and I bite my bottom lip. I don't say anything. I could ask him to make love to me, but I'd rather let my actions do the talking. Slowly I guide his length into me until he takes over, pushing his hips until he is completely inside me.

I'm so overwhelmed by the feel of him, the closeness, being connected in this way, that I hardly notice the discomfort at being stretched in this new way. I notice Peeta is breathing heavily and practically quivering above me, trying to stay still and let me adjust.

I roll my hips up towards him and he takes my silent sign that it is okay to move now. He withdraws slowly and then thrusts back into me. The pleasure is radiating to every part of my body. It is so different, so much more intense than the other times we've been together. I feel like we are one being, so in tuned with each other's bodies, working in perfect synchronicity to get each other to that point.

His pace starts to increase and I meet him thrust for thrust, urging him to go deeper and faster. Everything inside me is ready to come undone. I grasp Peeta's shoulders to hold on. Suddenly I could cry because this, what we're sharing, is the perfect way for us to express our commitment, to show each other that we'll be there to help each other through whatever lies ahead.

With every thrust inside me he claims me as his. Always.

I explode, my insides clenching around him and I feel him come moments later. We collapse into a sweat mess of exhausted limbs and ride out the euphoria together.

Nothing could ever feel as good as that. Ever.

* * *

The next morning I leave on the mission.

When Prim dies in the explosion I am sure that I would like nothing more than to join her.

But when I shoot Coin instead of Snow and Peeta stops me from taking that nightlock I remember what he said to me. I remember how I promised to come back to him.

There are so many times when I'm ready to give up over the next few weeks, but the thought of Peeta keeps me holding on.

And just like he promised Peeta eventually brings me back to life after several painful months, reminding me that despite what I've lost, there is still a life to live, love to share, and a future to have.


End file.
